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*** % --'•'f'rm '* 3 :tV: swum V K1 HUB TWIN's perfect w.iit^^:' Mr.yQA.4vnt UUA t. t t M b r n d b o w s cx»« hllln ^ « " btassott* to etar bronoho-' kneAfe " h ffiojginf birds byl>rok n rills, u > rode rhr u«h wu of drowsy bee%#v. talked. The topic? Orf« . Wuy, Bir, f TI R^'-FOIIRTH^ ()!'» > »D'S whole time he kMQS g talk, to thin1*, to be, of her, The oUicr fourth he sieops. „.. Kt'h ' JPo lf>nrn wh»t the mirhty know of lov^i;" ' lauahfd all constancy to pcora. ? "Behold yon hv py, change ul dove I Keliolil this d»v. hH storm at inorn. ? Ti t now 'tis ohanjred to calm and RUB, ;&Yea; all tli'n h change--the heart, tha ht|i; ; fPeiioidon oaith tljer is not one That chanueth not,' said L „ ' [« drow a crlasR, aa If to Kan The plain for steer*, rata® • it, ud lUinji 'e or ned his ne k, this . attic-man, jiv Then drove the cork home and r<>plie(§t > or twenty years (fowve these tears)** • a For twenty y ars no word of attlf ; s, % have no known for twenty y<fOS One folly tr m my wife." [ looked that Texan In t^« fnoer* " That dark-browed, bearded cattlc-i pnl cd hi be <r f, th a dropped in plaoe * hrô d richt h ind, all scarred and tan, nd toyed w;tli something, shining than From out 1a holxter, keen and small.' wan conr need. I d d not oara To argneit at all. he t 'or of mv speech ctrew still B|AS WC rode on that p rfect day, flPhebrown birds pli inn; from theh'H, " The crickets, had it their o n way. . ;-f wondered, marveled, marieleimneh, ,>;'k Was she of Texas growth? Was aba f)f Saxon blood, that boasted snob . , Eternal constancy? f^ell, we fell weary with the day. iL ®°d's b*1"® of gold across the wed Before ua drew and made us stay Beside a blossomed ri 11 and rest. i.:'-^pnt rest, I could not Know I must 'T:v' S 'The stovy of my Texan guide-- ...."'•^Bis dauntless lbve, enduring trust; „ His blest, immortal bride. y-.i'he camp-fire blazed, the bronchos i ]3&C And be ly-d -ep in bloom an * grass .. ^ Would tdink as by the bright flame daatpb ' ? sil.®r ani® to smell the panther pass. Vt ;*he massive Texan stars stood out, ,1, -M Britrht camp-fires of poor, weary souls - .;??J|ound heavenward. While all about - Couched Peace, with white patrols. J would not sleep until I knew. "Now, twenty years, my man," said I, Is a long time." He turned and drew • A short pipe forth, also a sich. *Tis twentv venrs or more," said he. "Nay, nay, my honest man, I TOW I do not doubt that this may be; But tell, ohl tell me how. •Twould mike a poem true and grandf ! All t ni" should note it near and far; And thv fair, v*-ein, T xan land Should st nd out like a winter star, * America should heed. And then The doub' fnl French beyond the 8(*-- Twould make them truer, nobler men To know how this may be." *5t's twenty years or more," nrtred he. A "Nav, that 1 know, eood friend of mine; 'f ^|ut le »d me where this wife may be, And I a pilarim at the shrine, • And kneeling, as a pilsTim tru© He scowling shouted in mv ea cannot show my wife to yon; ' She's dead this twenty vear " " .. i'i AH OLD MAN'S DECEIT. Among the several pictures Upon th© walls of my little sitting-room there is a bedaubed piece of canvas I Yaluo above them all. Alfchoagh I thoroughly understand and appreci ite sad venerate art, I lore to sit opposite it in my arm chair the whole day long. I brought this home from the National Gallery two summers ago, when the heat was very great, and I first began to feel that I was losing my strength *pd power, and that old age was gain­ ing only too rapidly upon me. Regularly lor many years I had at­ tended the public picture galleries. Having the reputation of being a gnod copyist, I had always a great many com­ missions to execute. Toward the latter end of this summer ft happened, however, that upon finish- T . £ I-I ~ J - A. .1 ' <%» TL ivunu n umiva», because of an unusual dullness affect­ ing general trade, to procure another. In conseque ce of this, I resolved to 'make a copy of Claude's "Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba," feeling sure that I should easily dispose of it, ngitlie picture I knew to be a general favorite; •nd accordingly I at once set to work. For some t ime I was the only person in the gallery engaged in copying this ^painting; bat one morning, when just 'About to commence my labor, I was ac- •costed l>y a young girl--very slight and .fragile-looking--carrying a fo di;ig- •easel, a piece of canvas partially done up in brown paper, and a large paint­ box. "I beg your pardon," she said, flush­ ing, "but could you make room for me?" "Indeed, yes," I answered promptly, looking at her sweet, plaintive face with great interest. "You can have this place; I will move. The light here is excellent." "Oh, no, I do not wish to, take your place!" she replied, nervously. "I can •oe anywhere--here will do very well." "You are not taking my place/' I an­ swered ; "a little lower down will do •quaI iy well for me. Let me help you," 1 add'd, removing my easel, and pro- •ceed'nsr, w'tliout receiving !>nv further resistance from her, to install hers in the posi;ion mine had occupied. "I am sure you are very kind to do this for me," she said, leaning against the iron railing which protected tho pic- tares. "I have come all the way from * Camden Town, and 1 feel rather tired." '""jr. "Theheat is so great, t-x)," I answered, am afraid you will find it very trying here." "Oh! I don't mind that," she replied, taking the brown paper off the canvas, „ /which was about the same size as my «*n, and placing it upon the easel. "I •m afraid you will laugh at this poor Attempt of mine. I began it six years Ago, when I was almost a child, when ror papa was nlive, and I have brought to finish, because"--she hesitated-- "because I want to sell it." I glanced at the canvas. I had seen ( A great many absurd and ridiculous ai- Vympts at art in my life, but I had / '•liever looked upon a cruder or more , lamentable performance than this. It t %as, in fact, nothing but an absolute llaub. It was altogether out of draw- log, the color of the sky was a de^p Prussian blue, the olouds inky black, '•* |he sun represented by a mixture of " *|Lirty yellow and red-- indeed, such a *;/ ®trans?o appewanc1* it presented that it --i|irould have provoked a smile from me |iad I not been too conscious of the presence of the pale, anxious young jjpirl by my side. 3 .v "Do you think I shall ever sell it?" •he asked, her large, wistful eyes fixed Upon me. There was something so inefftbly pouching and sad in the tone of her ^roice that I felt I could not tell her the l^uth. "Possiblr you may," I answered, a (ittle falt ringly. "It's not very far ad­ vanced : perhaps I may be able to give l|mra some slight a sistanoe. I urn an ;!|pld man, and have had a great deal of •facperience." || She lo->';ed at me earnestly. J J "If, indeed, you would only help me," - «he exclaimed, impulsively, "just a very «v^ttle, just to make it look more like -yours. It's ever so long sinoe I pii ted, >ut people always like to buy nicfurarf #--rich people, I mean; and I thouorht if only could I finish this, I could take it Poor girl! I saw the tears in her eyes as she spoke, and I wondered what sad story hers m:ght be. But I did not wish her to think me curious, so I fore- bore asking any questions while she opened her paint box and proceeded to set her palette with every imaginable oo'or possible. "I must have forgotten how to paint, it is so long ago," she said, advancing to her easel, the brushes trembling in her tang, thin, delicate hand. "Would you like me to do a little for you just at first?" I suggested gently. "I should not like to ask you to do that, "she answered, her face brighten­ ing; "but it would be very kind, be oause it is so very long since I painted." I knew I could do absolutely nothing to redeem the, work as it stood, but after a few necessary preliminaries I set the colors straight and advised her to proceed with them, when at last I returned the brush and palette to her hand. She seemed very grateful. Her eyes sparkled with hope. "I am indeed fortunate to meet ffrith so kind a friend!" she exclaimed, seat­ ing herself in front of the easel. "I hope I shall soon finish it," she added with a sigh, "for it is difficult to leave my little ones alone,* _ I looked at her in astonishment. Her little ones! Could it be possible that she was married ? I glanced at her left hand involuntarily, and then for the first time observed that she wore a wed­ ding-ring. I did not like to make any remark. I felt afraid of saying some­ thing that mi-?ht cause her" pain. So we both went on working in silence un­ til 1 o'clock came, and I took out the lit le packet of sandwiches and small bottle of wine that my son's wife always placed in my pocket every morning be­ fore I startel for the gallery. Per­ ceiving that slio had evidently brought n<> reiieshm^nt, I as ed her to partake of mine. She smiled and thanked me, but declined. . "I am too anxious," she said; "I could not eat;" "But you are weak," I remonstrated, gently. "A little of this wine would revive you." g "lam not weak," shs persisted;"only vew, very anxious." And so we fell into conversation once more, and by degrees she told me her story. It was very sad, but by no means a remarkable one. She had l>een married six years, and was now 25. Her husband u as a city clerk, and worked day aarl night for herself and their two children; but he had been taken sud­ denly ill with fever and was now in the hospital, and the proprietors o the bank where he was em >loyed allowed her something a week and promised to keep his place vacant until lie was con­ valescent. She found it diffieul , in­ deed, to live; and lately, to add to her trouble, the landlord of their little home had threatened to turn them out and seize their possessions for the rent, which had been owing for a considera­ ble length of time, and her poor hus­ band was still very ill. It must be a lo ig while before he would be able, the doctor said, to leave the hospital and resume his work; but if only she could sell this picture for £20--£20! poor gir !--she would be able to pay the rent and all would be well! I listened to this narration very sor­ rowfully. She seemed so young to have had such a sad experience of life, and my heart bled for her. Unfortu­ nately, I could only give her words for comfort. Although I possessed enough man. I would never let her know who the purchaser reftlly was. I walked home from the gallery that night in a very happy frame of mind. I looked forward with such delight to meeting her again, with the money for her pict­ ure in my hand. The next day was not a student's day, and consequently no work was to be done at the g tilery. I did nothing but think of her; and when I had left my painting at the house of its purchaser and received the money the first thing I did upon my return was to hancr her canvas upon these walls, where it has remained ever since. I could scarcely eat my breakfast the following morning, so impatient I felt to reach the gallery. When I arrived there I hastened up the wide steps and through the several rooms, until I reached the picture of Claude. There was no necessity now to place the easels in readiness, our work was done; and I somehow thought, rather sadly, that, perhaps, I should never paint another picture. But it was very hot and close, although so early in the morning, and it was, per­ haps, that that made me feel faint, for I was glad to take off my hat, and re­ lieved to find I was the sole oocupant of this part of the gallery. I waited for nearly an hour before she appeared. I hurried forward to meet he". She looked paler than usual I thought, ^nd her step was slow and weary. She regarded me evidently with great surprise. "I expected to find you working," she exclaimed; "but I am earlier than I theught. I never looked at the clock before I started. I seemed to forget everything; I felt so out of heart. I must tell you," she added, striving, I could fee, with a great effort, to keep back the tears--"you will pity me, I know. Last night I had such a cruel letter from our landlord, saying that if the rent is not paid within a week we must turn out; and my youngest little one is so ill, and poor Henry--and per­ haps after all my trouble, after being obliged to leave home the long day through, I shall not be able to sell my picture." I saw her lip quiver And the tears gather in her eyes. "Don't be afraid!" I said, gently. "Your picture is sold! I sold it yester­ day for you while you were away!" " Sold!" she exclaimed, seizing my hand in her agitation. "Sold!--actually sold! But no! it cannot be! It is too good! It is not true!" "It is true!" I affirmed, positively. "1 have the money for you--here--£30i" 1 took out a roll of bank notes as I spoke, from my pocket. She gazed at the money in blank sur­ prise. Then Bhe covered her face with her hand and sobbed convulsively. "There is nothing to make you un­ happy in this," I said, as soothingly as I knew how, half afraid that I had ac­ quainted her of her good fortune too suddenly. "Take the money in your own hands," I said, smiling;^ "perhaps that will make you feel it is really true." She took the bank notes from me and turned them over one by one. Then she asked me who had bought the pict­ ure, and I told her the purchaser was a gentleman, which was no untruth, for, thongh I am very poor, I am still a gentleman. CURIOUS AND SCIENTIFIC. to maintain myselt just now, times had been rather hard for my son, and I had been obliged to help him with the little money I had saved. Every time I looked at the canvas it made me feel almost wretched. I had not sufficient strength of resolution to tell her the bitter truth. It was perhaps mistaken kindness; but I was a weak old man, and through childish timidity I shrank from dashing all her hopes to the ground by the ut.erance of a few words. That night I could not sleep for thinking of this poor girl struggl ng with poverty alone. I tried to devise some means of he ping her, but in vain. I could think of nothing. • Tffie next day she was at the gallery, and the following one continued to paint with the utmost zeal. "I think I shall soon finish it," she often s.iid to me. "Or course it is not like yours, but the man at the picture shop will not hav» seen that, and s0 will be satisfied with mine." So she spoke, in her happy ignor­ ance, and I nmiled in acqu escence. I could not confute her. Lately she had altered very much for tho better. Her face had lost the worn, weary look. It was because she was so imbued with the idea that she would be able to sell the picture and pay the rent. "I have not told Henry," she satd onee, "what I. am doing. He won d not like to • think I had to leave the children and to work; but when he comc * back to us I shall tell him how I saved our little home, and he will call me a brave girl, and £ shall feel so happy and proud." One day she left the gallery several hours earlier on account of her young­ est chi d, who was suffering from a se­ vere attack of cold, and I offered to put away her things that she might start at once, so anxious she appeared, to reach home. Directly after she had tiken her ' departure I lifted the can­ vas off her easel, not because it of­ fended my eye, but beoause when I thought of her high hopes regarding it, the sight of it made me feel quite broken-hearted. I had scarcely done this before I per­ ceived a gentleman standing near, ex­ amining, evident y with a critical eye and no small degree of pleasure, iny copy, which only wanted a few more touches to render it perfect. Was this gentleman an intending purchaser? As I watched him, a thought flashed sud­ denly across my mind, and not more quickly than I had conceived did I re­ solve to act upon this new idea. The gentleman, after a few moments' more silent examination of , my work, turned toward where I stood, with the brushes and palette of my poor yonug friend in hand, and inquired whether I was the artist of the picture, and if I had any intention «f selling it. I l>owod and a-iHwered bot'i questions in the af­ firmative. He then proceeded to make me an offer of £30 for it. The sum was not arge; indeed, considerably below what I wa< in the liab -t of receiving for my - orks; but I accepted this without hesitation, and promised to deliver the painting at his house in G-- square the next morning. When-lie left me I commenced put­ ting a few finishing touches to the pict­ ure. I felt in such excellent spirits. What I LF Kolved upon doing seemed to make almost a young man of me a°a:n. Now T in ended to purchase her p ct re with the £30, and to tell her that, dur- in" lier absence, I had had the good fortune to sell her pamtiag to uiiu %K«ii - lm- ished it," she said. "I am sure I owe it all to you," she added, suddenly; "because your picture is so beautiful-- so different from mine; and, if j&m had asked tlie gentlemen, he would; of course, have bought yours." "No. no ; I'll answer for it he would not have done that," I interrupted quickly, watching, with an indescriba­ ble feeling of delight, the flush of pleasure deepen on her face. " I don't suppose I shall ever paint again," she said. "I might not be so forttinate another time. I cannot leave my children, and I am m>t strong; but I do feel so very, very happy. We shall not have to turn out now; thirty pounds will more than pay the rent, and when Henry comes back quite well, how proud I shall feel to be able to tell him that with my own hand I earned the money and kept our little home. Think of it! • Won't it be glorious! And I shall never forget you," she added. "I shall come to the gallery and find you with Henry and my two little ones very soon, I hope." I did not think when I told her that she would be certa n to find me there that it was the last time I should ever enter the gallery. I did not think that I, too, had painted my last picture. In the street outside I parted from her. The look of supreme happiness upon her face I have never forgotten. It haunts me now and will liaunt me to the end of my days! I have never Been her since, but so long as I live she will live in my recollection; and, though I am left very much alone, and am very weak and can no longer use my brush, I am happy when I sit and look upon her canvas, for it is not the painting I see, but her sweet young face smiling upon me as it smiled upon me then. An Incident hi Penn's Life. "Hand now, in conclusion," said Wil­ liam Penn, "for time flies and money is 12 per cent., I'll tell thee what I'll do with thee. We didn't come here to rob thee, but if thee has any land thee wants to sell, I'll make thee an offer as square as a horse trade. I don't care to buy, anyhow, and I ,don't want to beat thee out of a foot of ground, but if thee is anxious to sell, I'll give right here, cash and goods right down on the counter, $500 for the State of Pennsyl­ vania, with all the dips, spurs, angles, sinuosities, stock, good-will, fixtures, subscription and mailing lists, and all the appurtenances thereunto appertain­ ing, be the same more or less, and you take it or leave it." "They want von," the interpreter ex- ' Elained, "to make it five hundred and a alf." "Couldn't do it," replied Penn. "I won't make a dollar out of it at $500. I've paid £16,000 for it already to a man who never owned a foot of it, and I can't put much more money into it." "He want| to know, Onas," the inter­ preter said, when a native delegate ceased to speak (Onas was the nearest the Indians could get to a .translation for Penn's name, "Onas" meaning a quill; although why it wasn't just as easy to say Penn, even with two n's, no one but an Indian could tell); "he wants to know, Onas, if you paid £16,000 for the State to a land-grabber who couldn't and can't give yon a deed, if you think it is a square deal to offer the rightful owners only $500 to qniet title?" And the silence that fell on tho as­ sembly was so profound you might have S oke French chemists have sucoeeded in soldifving petroleum, in which state it burns like tallow. This solidification is effected by adding to distilled ̂ petrol- eum 25 per cent, of the purified juice of plants belonging to the family of the Eiiphorb iacece. A B OSTON genius has invented a stone- cutting machine that was shown capable of performing in twenty-two minutes what a small army of men could not have accomplished in the same time. The invention will, it is thought, work a revolution in the granite-cutting trade. As TO restoring frozen bodies, Knowl­ edge says; "Laptchinski has made a series of very careful experiments upon dogs, with the following results: Of twenty animals treated by the method of gradual resuscitation in a cold room, fourteen perished; of twenty placed at once in a warm apartment, eight died; while of twenty immediately put into a hot bath, all recovered." A M UNICH professor has invented a bracelet that will remedy the affliction known as "writer's cramp." The pen­ holder is fastened to the bracelet in such a manner that it can be used to write with ease and without bringing the fingers into use at all. The hand can rest on the table, moving easily along as the letters are traced, and it is said that little practice is required to give expeit- hes8 in the use of the invention. D ULL gold may be cleaned in this way: Take eighty grams calcium hy­ pochlorite, eighty sodium bicarbonate, and twenty sodium chloride, and treat the mixture with three litres of distilled water. It must be kept for use in well- corked bottles. Goods to be cleansed are put in a basin and covered with the mixture. After some time they are taken out, washed, rinsed in alcohol, and dried in sawdust. The articles then have the same appearance as if new. A PRIEST named Luigi Galimberti, re­ siding at Mi,lin, Italy, is said to have discovered tlie means of photography in natural colors and the process for en­ larging such' photographic productions to life-size. Another process said to have been invented by him gives what he calls phosphorescent pictures, visi­ ble at night. The priest is so hampered by poverity that his experiments thus far have been made at the expense of and for tlfe- benefit of a few personal friends. T HK number of manufacturers of telescopes who are able, even at the present day of scientific advancement, to produce the largest-sized glasses is very small, and even these instruments have an imper­ fection which has thus far proved in­ surmountable, namely, that of bringing the rays to' a focus; they still have a little deflection, like the telescope of old, and though experiments innumer­ able have been made to meet this fault, it remains still unremedied. As, how­ ever, the difficulty is of a purely me­ chanical nature, it is presumable that it will be overcome in the telescope of the future. A T the Munich Electrical Exhibition one of the curiosities was a telephone transmitting ipusic performed at Ober- Ammergau, over a distance" of sixty- three miles. At the palace a huge tele­ phonic arrangement brought over mu­ sic from 'the English Cafe, so that the whole immense audience could hear the pieces quite distinctly. But perhaps the most HlguiuCftut ~v»iiS i) BiiigiS wire whigh conveyed electrical energy a distance oftmrtv-seven miles from the coal mines of Miesbacli, where it was generated. This augurs a future for the economical use of lubor which may have far-reaching results. WE confess that the two points which have always struck our mind as distin­ guishing the nature of brutes from that of men, has been their inability to wor­ ship God, and to kindle a fire. It would be folly to deny that brutes can reason. A sheep dog who wants to head a flock in a narrow lane will jump over a wall and run on the other side until he has reached the exact point occupied by tliff sheep at the head of the flock, and then jump back in order to drive them home. A collev, who was fond of going out with the carriage, would go and hide himself as soon as he heard the order for the carriage given, so that he might not be tied up. If we analyze these many other instances of sagacity, we cannot help admitting that a brute's mind is capable of two or three steps of reasoning. On the other had, no ani­ mal ever manufactured a tool or weapon, even of.the simplest kind; and it is doubtful whether a gorrilla himself, w%> is supposed, to be our nearest neighbor, uses a walking-cane.--London Spectator. A Question of Pronunciation. There are a very few who have not been puzzled how to pronounce some out-of-the-way word which has suddenly sprung into common use. A bewildered reader writes to the Boston Herald say­ ing that the pronunciation of Wliittier's "Mauld Muller" has long been such a puzzle to him. "When I was a little fellow," he says, "I pronounced it pho­ netically, of course, Mul-ler. Well, shortly after I heard a literary gentle­ men--a judge, too--read the poem at an evening gathering, and I noticed particularly he pronounced Mu-ler. I made a note of it and carried that pro­ nunciation with confidence for a long time, until one day in high school the teacher informed us that the proper pronunciation of that name was 'Mwe- ler.' So I changed my colors again and sailed under Mweler for quite awhile, until one day I got into conversation with a young physician, a good German student. 'Oh, yes,' said he, 'I can tell you how to pronounce that name! Whenever you see a German word with two dots over the letter u, it is always pronounced as if immediately followed by an r,thus: "Muri-er, Maud Murier.'" By this time I had lost confidence in every one, and decided to let the young lady severely alone, but the other day I happened to run across a German fresh from the old country, and I said: 'Do you have any people over in your land called Muller? M-u-l-l-e-r?' 'Oh, yes, plenty.' 'Well, what do you call them--how do you pronounce it ?' 'Mil­ ler,' said he, 'it's a very common name --Miller.' I thanked him and left, and now if there is another way in which that word can be pronounced I should like to hear it. I am honestly seeking im information." Hot Versus Cold Drinks. In spite of the universal proverb that heat is life and death is oold, a writer in "Knowledge" maintains that hot drinks are unnatural, cold drinks natural to man. Notwithstanding this dictum says the Detroit Free Presa, few peo­ ple will believe it. Very hot drinks may do harm, but oo'd ones will do more, p*a effect of moderate heat up on the body is always snn'tary; the effect of oold may sometimes be more comfortable, but never i« entirely whole­ some. Neuralgia, rheumatism, etc., are alleviated by hot applications, ag­ gravated by cold. Hot water is found to be one of the best cures for dyspep­ sia yet discovered; stimulating the blood in the stomach and directing it toward the digestive nerve centers. Weakness and disturbance in the bow­ els are cau-ed by cold liquids and mod­ erated by hot ones. If hot drinks, like tea, coffee and alcoholic stimulants, do harm, it is not because they are hot, but because of their specific effects upon the nerves. They do more harm when they are cold, because the heat practi­ cally neutralizes their evil effects. Why They Stared At Him. Mr. Jones went home in a very eo|n- placent frame of mind, and as he opened the hall door and let himself in his face was wreathed in smiles at the thoughts that had taken possession of him. When Mrs. Jones saw him he was still smiling. She looked at him, gave a sudden scream and then began to laugh. "What's the matter, Maria?" he asked sharply. "N-o-o-thing," answered his wife in a convulsive tone of voice; "dinner is ready, Jeptlia." They sat down to the table alone, tho children not being in. Mr. Jones took advantage of their absence to become quite sociable. "How do I look, Maria?" he asked confidentially, witli that smirk of com­ placency still on his face, "S-s-plendid!" answered Maria, with her mouth full of mashed potatoes. "The reason I asked is that as 1 came home I walked up the avenue and met everybody I knew, and they stared at me so I didn't know but I looked pale or something." "You never looked better," mumbled Mrs. Jones, burying her face in her plate. "People acquire a habit of staring in the city," pursued Jones. "I've often told you -so, Jeptha, but you always said it was my fault--that I must do something to attract their at­ tention," said Mrs. Jones. "Well, it is the gentlemen who stare at you, Maria. That is quite different. Now it was the ladies who looked at me," observed Jones, loftily. "You're such a fine-looking man, you know, dear," said his wife, nearly smothered with laughter. "A-hem," murmured the lost man, "it shows your sex has good taste, my dear. Why, some of them lovely young ladies actually smiled upon me. I shall never dare to walk again." At this moment the children came whooping in. Willie looked at his father, bent nearly double and gave a loud guffaw. "Well, you apfti side-show, $»!" he shouted. "What do you mean, William ? Why this rudeness?" began Jones, but his hopeful was not to be squelched. "Ain't he a menagerie, though ?" he continued. "Say, Pa! why are you like me?" Jones only glared. "Because you are a little shaver! Say, pa, want a hand-glass, coz I'll sell you one cheap!" Jones rushed to the hat-rack intend­ ing to get his cane for Willie's edifica­ tion, but as he glanced in the oval mir­ ror in the center ami saw one side of his face deluded of his Burnside whisker, while the other was ornament­ ed witff its full appendage, he stopped and then went slowly and sadly up stairs. He had asked' the barber to take off half his whiskers and that functionary obliged him literally. Poor Jones, when anybody looks at "him now he has an attack of chills.--Detroit Post. * Fur-Bearers and Wearers. The principal call now is for the fur of the fur-seal and sea-otter. Of the lat­ ter about 5,000 are taken yearly. They are only found in the North Pacific isl­ ands. The best skins are valued from $100 to $500, and are especially affected by the wealthy Chinese. The Russian sable--though why so named is an enig­ ma, the choicest specimens coming from Kaintscliatka--is extremely fashionable throughout the world, the fur being valued for its great beauty, and being unique from the fact that the hairs turn and lie equally well in any position. The animel is related to the weasel, pine and stoue martens, mink, etc., but exceeds them in all the beauty and length of the over-hair; that is, long, flowing and of a i*ich bluish dark shade, wearing extremely well, the pelt being tough and durable. Nearly 100,000 are caught yearly at all points, bringing from $30 to $150 a skin, and the lady who would wear a perfect set of furs from it must pay nearly $2,000. The American marten--from Labra­ dor and Great Whale River--is much in demand. Artists' brushes are made from the hairs of the tail, and for this and other purposes over 130,000 are captured yearly, valued at $25 per skin, for the best. Of pine martens 200,000 are used. It is a rich brown, being of­ ten passed off by dishonest dealers as llussian sable. In this country the l>et- ter class of mink retains its popularity, the dark chestnut browns and blacks being rich and elegant in the extreme and often passed off upon the innocent purchaser as Russian sable. The dark blue, lustrous shades are most admired and cocne from Maine, Nova Scotia, the Middle and Northwestern States. The trappers realize, or should, from $5 to $25 per skin for the 250,000 animals killed yearly. Ermine skins are now rated at about $150 apiece, and the coat of Louis IX. was prolwibly worth at the time $2,500. One of the most fashionable furs is that of the silver fox. It is a rich, deep, glossy black with a bluish tinge. So b autiful are they that $500 has been given for a single skin, and La Lou tan states that in his time the skin of one of these foxes bronglit its weight in gold. Skins frequently bring $250. Of the 2,000 caught yearly, about 1,000 are used in England, and they are occa­ sionally seen upon the streets of New York. Cheap grades of fun are made from the Siberian squirrel, muskrats, rab­ bits, wildcats, badger, coon and even the common domestic cat, of whioh 1,000,000 and over are killed yearly; /et the attentive observer about New York is often reminded and forced to observe that the supply exceeds the de­ mand. Other animals, used in trim­ ming, etc., are lions, tigers and bears. Of the former 500 are consumed by the trade every year, while 20,000 bears, 500 tigers, 100,000 lmgalos, 100,000 chinchillas and 6,000,000 squirrels have been and are used yearly in various branches of trade.--New York Even­ ing Post. The pecan crop is one of the heaviest known in Northwestern Texfta. A Prehistoric Monster. If I were to apeak After the common fashion of the elephatit as "a mam­ moth," of the rhinoceros as A Titan, and the hippopo amus as "Behemoth, you might fairly charge me having forgotten that these animals, big as we think them, are really, after all, onlv the pigmies of other species. But I have not forgotten it, for l>efore me lies a paragraph announcing the discovery in Siberia of one of those colossal ani­ mals wiiich nature is very fond of drop­ ping in, in a staocato way, just to keep our pride down, and to remind us, we creatures of a degenerate growth, what "winter" meant in the years gone by, and what kind of a person an inhabitant of the earth then was. He had to be very big, indeed, very strong and very warmly cl »d, to be called the fittest in the glacial period, and to survive tha fierce assaults of the paheolithic cold. The rhinoceros, therefore exceeds by some cubits the stature of the modern beast, and is also by some tons heavier. It appears that an affluent of the Tana river was making alterations in its course, and in so doing cut away its banks, revealing the imbedded presence of a truly Titanic pachyderm, which, for want of a fitter name, has been tem­ porarily called "a rhinoceros." But it is such a creature that if it were to show itself now in the swamps of Assam or on the plains of Central Africa, it would terrify off its path all the species of the present day, whether one-horned or two-horned, and make no more of an obstinate elephant than an avalanche does of a goat-herd's hut that happens to stand in the line of its advance. At one time the whole skeleton of the great dead thing stood revealed to human eyes, such an apocalypse of mummy as should have had some evangelist like Prof. Owen elbse at hand to translate it to the world; a vision of dry bones fit for the prophet of South Kensington him-olf. Unfortunately, however, there is no large choice of professors in Si­ beria. They are wise beyond meas­ ure in Arctic suffering, and gradu­ ates in . the miseries of cold, but they know very little about fossils. So the stream that was cutting away its banks took the old rhinoceros in its day's work, and cut tlie monster of the past away, too. Its he.id was event n- /,ally rescuod, and so was one foot, said t6 be at Irkutsk. Ex pede Ilffculem. This foot, if set down upon one of the rhinoceroses of modern times, would have flattened it as smooth as the phi­ losopher's tub rolled out t iose naughty boys of Corinth who had ventured to tickle the cynic through tho bung-hole with a straw. Beside its size, the huge monster in question asserts its su­ periority over existing species by being clothed in long hair, a fleece to guard it against the climate in which it lived, ami from which even the tremendous panoply of the nineteenth century rhi­ noceros could not sufficiently protect the Wearer. Thus, clad in a woolly hide and colossal in physique, the Si­ berian mammal not only lived, but lived happily, amid snowy glaciers that would have frozen the polar bear and made icicles of arctio foxes.--Harper's Weekly. • " ' ') : : Unseen Helpers. "Take, oh boatman, thrice thy CNt Take--I Rive it willingly, For invisible to thee Spirits twain bave crossed with me." "Can you give me a day's work?" asked a poor woman of a well-to-do "You look very delicate," said -the lady. "I "heed someone to wash, but you do not seem strong enough for the work." " Oh, yes'm; only try me, and you will see. I have been sick and got behind, and my children need bread; besides, Charlie will help carry the water and lift the tubs," concluded the woman ea­ gerly. "Who is Charlie?" asked the lady of the house. "My husband, ma'ma," was the low answer- The woman was engaged, did her work well, but there was something that troubled the mistress of the house greatly. As soon as she left the kitchen the woman would call Charlie, and she would hear her voice talking and laugh­ ing, and holding conversation with some one, but when she went into the room there would be no.one there. The wa­ ter was carried, the tubs all -lifted into their places, but the slight wo: nan who washed was tlie only person who was visible. When the lady of the house paid her she said: "Callyour husband; I would like to see him." "He wouldn't come, ma'ma," said the woman, simply. "No one ever sees him but me." "What do von mean," asked the lady, in astonishment. "Why, ma'ma, Charlie is dead him­ self, but his spirit comes and helps me; how could I work this way if it didn't? I could no. more lift one of those tubs of water alone than you could, ma'ma. He's come ever since I was siok and helped m<e that way." The compassionate" lady placed an­ other coin with those she had already given, "For Charlie and the children," she said, with tears in her voice, and she saw afterward that the sick and wearied mother was helped by living hands; But there must be many persons bearing greater burdens greater than tliey are able to, * who are helped and made stronger by invisible guidos--the memory of some dead Charlie, who lifts unseen* the heavy load, with whom they commune as they work! How would the dull routine of daily life be glori­ fied, could we for one moment see the angel-helper at our side! When the pious monk left his duties to go out on a deed of mercy, he returned to find all his homely work done, and for one mo­ ment he found in the door of his cell his Blessed Master smiling upon him! It may be only a vague theory, the de­ lusion of a sack brain--and there is an infinite sadness in it--but surelj "It. Is a beautiful belief , That ev r round our heads Arc hoverlns on *nu>*l wings The spirita of the dead. "To feel that nnneen hand* we ctaift' .y While feet unheard are gathered rimaij To know that wi> In faith may crrasp Celestial guard* from heavenly ground. --Detroit Free JYma Prayer Rags. Strange are the vagaries of fashion. Among the latest oi its freaks is said to be the introduction of "prayer ruars," to be us< d by the fashionable ladies. They have come from the misty East, along with Japanese goods, hashish,attar of roses, and other delec'able tilings, and the aroma of "Ar tby tho blest" is sup­ posed to cling to thmi, even when they ure bought from an Irish Turk on Broadway. They are described as be­ ing similar to tliose used by tho M->- hamrm^l.inn, are usually about three by four feet in and can bo distin­ guished ' by the 'design, whieh always represents some large figure at one end, and is pointed at the other. Places are indicated for the hand and knees. De­ vout women procure the real things from an importer, and, without facing Mecca, bumping their head on the floor or removing their shoes and stockings, like the sons of the Prophet, still actually do use them to kneel on while praying. They are said to be a great comfort. jttOl MHO TO PATBIABCH. BX BILL ABP. When a man begins to get along in years he gradually changes fiom beftrg a king in his family to a patriarch. He is more tender and kind to his offspring, and instead of ruling them, the first thing he knows they are ruling him. My youngest children and my grand­ children just run over me now, and it takes more than half of my time to keep up with 'em, and find out where they are and what they are doing. Sometimes I get mad and rip up and around like I was going to do something desperate, but Mrs. Arp comes slipping along and begins to tell how they didn't mean any harm, and they are just like all other boys, and wanted to know if I didn't do them sort of things when I was a boy. Well, that's a fact--I did--and I got a lickin' for it, too. You see, I was one of the oldest boys, and they always catch it, but the youngest one never gets a lickin', for by the time he comes along the old man has mellowed down and wants a pet. The older children have married and gone, and the old folks feel sorter like they have been thrown off for somebody no kin to 'em, and so they twine around those that are left all the closer; but bv-and-by they grow up, too, and leave them and it's pitiful to see the good old couple bereft of their children and living alone in their glory. Then is the time that grandchildren find a welcome in the old family homestead, for as Solomon saith, the glory of the old man is his child­ ren's children. Then is the time that the chaps of the second and third gen­ eration love to escape from their well- ruled home and for a while find refuge and freedom and frolio at grandpa's. A child without a grandpa and grandtha can never have its share of happiness. I'm sorry for 'em. Blessings on the good old people, the venerable grand­ parents of the land, the people with good old honest ways and simple habits and limited desires, who indulge in no folly, who hanker after no big thing, but live along serene, and oovet nothing but the happiness of their children and their children's children. I said to a good old mother not long ago: "Well, I hear that Anna is to be mar­ ried." "Yes, sir," said she, smiling sorrow­ fully, "I don't know what I will do. The last daughter I've got is going to leave me. I've nursed her and petted her all her life, and I kinder thought she was mine and would always be mine, but she's sun off arter a feller she's no kin to in the world, one who never did a thing for her but give her a ring and a book or two and a little French candy now and then, and it does look so strange and unreasonable. I couldn't understand it all if--if I hadn't done the same thing a long time ago," and she kept knitting away with A smile and a tear upon her motherlj face. But Fm not going to slander these little chaps that keep us so busy look­ ing after them, for their is no meanness in their mischief, and if they take liber­ ties it is because we let 'em. Mrs. Arp says they are just too sweet to live, and is always narrating some of their smart sayings. Well, they are mighty smart, for they know exactly how to get every­ thing and do everything they want, or they know how to manage her, and they know that she manages me and that settles it. A man is the head of a house about some things, and about some other things he is only next to the head, if he ain't a fool. A man can punish his ehildren, bnt it's always advisable to make an explanation in due time and let hie wife knew what he did it for, be­ cause, you see, they are her children, sure enough, and she knows it and feels it. The pain and trouble, the nursing and night watching have all been hers. The washing and dressing, and mend­ ing and patching--tieing up fingers and toes, and sympathizing with 'em in all their great big little troubles all falls \ to her while the father is tending to liis farm, or his store, or his office, or his friends, or may be his billiard table. When a woman says "This is my child," it carries more weight and more mean­ ing than when a man says it, and I've not got much respect for a law that will give a man a preference of ownership just because he is a man. IjMERICAN FABLES* A (Tat 'wiikrh had just settled herself between the sheets for a nap was aroused one night by howls and y to wis on tlie roof of a shed near by. "For the land's sake! but what is that !" she exclaimed as she arose up on end. The howls continuing, she got out of bed, raised the window, and called out: "In the name of mercy, what is wanted and who are yon ?" "I'm a Free Citizen," was the reply. "But why those howls?" Tm singing. Fact is, I'm serenading "But I don't want it. <5© away or Fll injure you for life." But the Man refused to move a foot. Hair-brushes, bootjacks, water pitchers and bedsteads were heaved at him in quick succession, but he dodged each missile and continued to sing until the Cat cut her throat in desperation. Moral:--Torn about is fair play, and ' the chance is sure to oome. ^ An Unaecommodatlng Doctor. Gtis De Smith, who is the greatest bore in Austin, oalled on Dr. Dosem, and complained that he, Gus, was troubled with fits of despondency, and wanted to know what to do for it. "You must go out riding in a buggy every day with some ohoerful compan­ ion who will talk to you and amuse yon." "Yon are a oheerful man, Doctor, and you have got a buggy, have you^ not?5* "Yes; we doctors never take the med­ icine we prescribe for others."--IVjjo® < Sifting ». WORDS of wisdom: First thoughts and mortgages are always l>est. The girl with the biggest feet always wants to play Cinderella. A fan may be used to hide the absence of a blush. No one accuses a hotel piano of being out of, tune. . TfiB German empire has now about 43,000,000 acres of forest, valued at $400,000,000, and appropriates $500,000 every yeir to in or ease pnd maintain th® growth of trees. -S;.. '&• i-'.-'V'